I Can't Stay Away
by NYPDm07
Summary: 'You might not always end up where you thought you were going to, but you will always end up where you were meant to be.'
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimers: I don't own Saw or any of the characters.**

__**Other: Hey, guys. So, I'm starting another Adam/Lawrence fic. This one is going to be darker than my other one. There won't be as many emotional scenes, and 'AWWW' moments. Diana will probably not be included until a lot later. Adam will be very...different from how he was in my other fic. I don't know how to explain it, other than simply saying that this one is darker. I have no idea where I'm going with this, what's going to happen, what it's basically about, or anything. It's nearly one in the morning, and I suddenly felt motivated to write this. I'm not dropping my other fic. I'm just going to be working on two stories now. **

**Hm. Well, I hope this doesn't crash and burn. Reviews are greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy reading this. :) It's rather thrown together, but...-shrug- It'll do for now. Not too shabby for random work at this hour. **

_Nothing matters when you're alone. There's no denying it. You could pick up a cold, shiny razor and introduce it to your wrist. Let the warm blood stream down your numb arm as you crumple to the ground in a near-lifeless heap. Lie there, alone in the emptiness of your apartment, the life draining from your glassy eyes, all thought escaping your fuzzy mind, all muscles slowly relaxing. And does it really matter to anyone? Of course not; you're alone. Nobody's there to watch you suffer, to realize how terribly and truly alone you've been, to see how your heart has been aching and begging for attention, for care and love, important things that every human being craves and thrives on. Why do people seem so surprised when they walk into the scene of a suicide like this? Do they not look around at the place? Are they so blind and stupid as to ignore the shit you've been dealing with, the pain you've been strongly enduring, the sheer loneliness that ended up destroying you? It doesn't matter. You were alone. That's why it doesn't matter. Nobody loves you, nobody gives a fuck about you. If someone had, you wouldn't have been alone, you wouldn't have been dead and lying on that cold, hard, bloody tiled floor of your dirty bathroom in your empty apartment. That's why nothing matters when you're alone. Someone cleans up the mess you've made, and then you're gone from existence. That's all, folks. A couple of polite, old neighbors with no lives attend your funeral, discuss it for three days, and then they move on and forget about you within a week, while you rot in your grave. It doesn't matter, though. You were alone, and you always have been, so who cares if you're alone even when you die? Eternal darkness, warmness, and simple nothingness don't seem so bad when your life has been as shitty as it had been. The neighbors are fucking. I can hear her squealing like a baby pig while her beefy boyfriend rams in and out, moaning in a rather gay style. I wonder when her husband comes home. I'm gonna go snap a couple pictures of this hot affair, and sell them to her husband. I'm running low on cigarettes and alcohol. Maybe I'll browse the razor section. Peace out._

Adam closed the notebook, shoving it under his mattress. He's really low on money. He just managed to scrape together enough money to pay off this month's rent and paid it off yesterday. It's been two years since he'd been rescued from Jigsaw's Bathroom of Hell, and he'd been too traumatized to do much work. His apartment was as shitty as it had always been, with the peeling paint, roach infestation, no heat, and crappy lighting. Each room only had what was necessary. The kitchen had basic appliances, such as a cheap refrigerator, a microwave, and a couple of counters. There was no stove. What was the point? He didn't know how to cook. The bathroom…Well, if you aren't retarded, you'll know what's in there. Just take a peek into your own bathroom, decrease the size by five, subtract your fancy towels and toiletries, throw in a couple of roaches and rust stains, and you've got it about right. Then there was the living room; a.k.a, extra space that held a couch, a small TV, and a lamp. The bedroom held a bare mattress with a couple of pillows and a heavy blanket, and a dresser in the far end corner. Lastly was the darkroom, where most of his money had gone.

The young man – sickly pale with a body of lean muscle, a stubborn jaw, and large, child-like eyes the color of a foaming ocean – stood up and took an absent minded glance in the dirty mirror hanging on the wall. His soft black hair was disheveled, there were deep, dark bags beneath his eyes, and his cotton gray hoodie was ten sizes too big. He was practically drowning in it, and it made him look even more vulnerable. Tugging up his low-cut jeans, Adam pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, shaking loose the last one, and tossed the now empty carton onto the floor. He placed it between his lips, lit it up, and took a deep draw.

Now that his nerves were calmed slightly, Adam grabbed his camera, his baby, his prized possession, and hung it around his neck via strap, shuffling over to the front door, exhaling a cloud of smoke. It was time to make quick thousand or so dollars. The money was needed badly. He hadn't eaten in a couple of days, and had been surviving on beer, really, given to him by the crazy drunk living across the hall from him.

Adam swung the door open and walked on out. Only to immediately slam into a tall, solid body smelling of clean aftershave and dry laundry. It was a very pleasant smell. Too bad he was too busy choking on smoke to really enjoy it. The impact was strong enough to send him sprawling across the dirty cement hallway. The crunch of his camera from beneath his chest was enough to stop time. A large hand grabbed his bicep and yanked him up to his feet. Adam immediately swung his arm, satisfaction coursing through his veins as his fist connected with a face, and a startled yelp met his ears. The young man's face was twisted in a furious snarl.

"Hey, listen up, asshole. You just fucking broke my two thousand dollar camera, and you'd better pay for it. Why the fuck were you chillin' in front of my door, you creep?" Adam shouted, glaring up at the tall man before him. The man looked rich, wearing black dress pants and shoes and a baby blue silk button-down shirt. His blonde hair was combed neatly, and his deep blue eyes looked surprised and concerned.

"I…I'm so sorry, of course I'll pay for it. Are you alright?" he said, reaching out and touching Adam's scraped jaw. Adam smacked his hand away.

"Back off, man!" he snapped, stepping away. Then he really looked at the man, and realization washed over him painfully cold and fast. He swayed on his feet, horror etching onto his face. He lost his vision, and his knees buckled. He would've hit that hard, dirty ground if the handsome man hadn't lunged forward and caught him.

"Adam!" the man exclaimed.

As Adam lost consciousness, the man's name flashed across his mind.

Dr. Lawrence Gordon; the man who'd been chained in the bathroom with him. The man who had shot him in the shoulder, leaving him a nasty scar. The man who had left him alone for four days in that torturous bathroom.

Lawrence was here. He'd found him.

**Thanks for reading! :) Please review and let me know what you think. I plan on this story being a lot different from my other one, though it's rather early to tell right now. It's kind of short, I know. -_- But yeah...Enough rambling for now. Good night, guys! :) Hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimers: I don't own Saw or any of the characters. **

**Other: Alright, so here's the next chapter. ^^ I hope you guys enjoy it. Thank you for the reviews, it encourages me to continue with this fanfic. :) Well, in case I don't upload the next chapter tomorrow, I hope that everyone enjoys their Thanksgiving. Those who celebrate it, of course.**

**Okay, to whoever left a review going '*yawn* another fanfic about an anorexic Adam...' or whatever it was along those lines: Adam is not anorexic. I never said he was. I stated in the first chapter that he is very low on money. He hasn't been able to afford food for a couple of days, because he used most of his money to pay his rent. I'd appreciate reviews that aren't rude and without sense. Thank you. :\**

**Not only was this added input placed for the anonymous reviewer, but I also added this to clear up any confusion for other people. I don't do food disorders. I just don't. Anorexics lose their muscles, by the way. Once your body realizes that you aren't taking in any food, it goes into a sort of panic mode, and begins breaking down your muscles and storing fat so you don't starve to death. Though, obviously if you remain anorexic for a long time, you will starve to death. So, another way to realize that I didn't make Adam anorexic was that I said in the first chapter that he had a body of lean muscle. Lean muscle is usually acquired through running, swimming, or light exercise. As a voyeur, a job that can be dangerous at times, Adam runs. **

**Now that this issue is cleared up, enjoy the chapter. ^^**

The young man collapsed into his strong arms, mere centimeters from hitting the ground. Lawrence pulled him up, carrying him bridal-style, and looked down at his pale face. It was obvious that he hadn't slept in ages, and he was so light in his arms that he probably hadn't eaten, either. No wonder he'd fainted; not only was he weak from lack of food and sleep, but Lawrence's random appearance had startled him rather badly.

The splintering wooden door of Adam's apartment was still open, so Lawrence walked in, kicking the door shut behind him, and looked around. The place was disgusting. For a minute, Lawrence didn't even want to move from his spot. With wide eyes, he inspected the practically bare but very dirty apartment, considering the very plausible idea of bringing Adam to his own apartment. A rather large cockroach scuttled by, and Lawrence quickly shuffled out of the way. This was horrifying.

But he hesitantly stepped forward, going into the living room and gently placing Adam's unconscious body onto the worn couch. Then, with the confidence of the doctor he was, Lawrence went into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator. There were a couple of beers, and that was all, aside from the food stains and dead roaches. He shut the door hurriedly, and opened a cabinet, grabbing a glass, and filled it with clean water. At least he could hydrate himself. Maybe, if Adam allowed him to, Lawrence would buy him some food.

Lawrence went back into the living room and set the glass of water down on the ground, grabbing Adam's wrist and feeling his pulse. It was kind of sluggish, but some food and water would fix that.

He looked so vulnerable, lying so still and relaxed on the couch, his face so pale, drowning in his hoodie. Lawrence reached out and brushed his knuckles along Adam's smooth cheek. The flesh was slightly warm, but it was…nice. His eyes flickered downward, at Adam's hidden shoulder. Shifting slightly, he carefully nudged the heavy material over, suddenly itching to see the scar. The scar he'd given him by shooting him.

But Adam stirred, blinking his eyes open. For a dazed moment, he stared at Lawrence, who froze. Then those grey-green eyes moved to glance at where Lawrence's hand was, by his shoulder. Adam glared at him, and shoved him away.

"Adam – "

"Don't say a fucking word," The young man hissed, dragging himself up into a sitting position. He rubbed his face with his hands. The silence was long and uncomfortable – for Lawrence, at least. Adam curled up against the cushions of the couch, eyes drooping with exhaustion, and studied his guest.

"You're not going to ask me any questions. You're just going to answer mine. Do you understand?" Adam said, fidgeting with the large hem of his hoodie. Lawrence licked his lips, hesitated, then nodded. Adam stared at him, as if debating whether or not to actually talk to him or just kick him out. But finally, he nodded too, slowly.

"How'd you find me?" he asked. Good question. It had taken a couple of weeks, actually, going through hospital records and calling in favors.

"I'm a surgeon, Adam. I just went through hospital records. You…You have an impressive record. And it included your address. So I wrote it down, and came here," Lawrence answered. Adam frowned.

"Why?"

Lawrence sighed, looking down at the stained carpet, idly picking at loose strands. It wasn't an easy question to answer.

"I…I wanted to see if you were alright," he said. Glancing up at the tired young man, he knew the answer had angered him. Adam's eyes had narrowed, and his hands had curled tightly around the hem of the hoodie, his knuckles turning white.

"You wanted to see if I was alright? It's been two fucking years, and out of the fucking blue you decided to drop by?" Adam snarled. In those two years, Adam had never left Lawrence's mind. He'd thought of him, dreamt of him, absent-mindedly talked about him to Allison, and never had he considered visiting him. Though, he couldn't deny the fact that whenever his phone rang, or the doorbell sounded, Lawrence's heart leapt, as if he were expecting Adam to suddenly pop up.

"I know. I'm…sorry. I should've visited you, or called you. But I didn't. And I wish I had. I couldn't get you out of my head," Lawrence said quietly. Adam snorted in disbelief, shaking his head and looking anywhere but at the doctor.

"You're a real fucking joke, man. Leave," he said. Lawrence took hold of Adam's arm in attempt to get his attention. But Adam, his body twisting as quick as an angry cobra, pulled away and snapped his arm back, and once again introduced his fist to Lawrence's face.

"I said get the fuck out!" Adam shouted, chest heaving, his fingers knotting tightly into his own hair. His eyes gleamed.

"Adam, I know you're angry. You have every right to be. I – " Lawrence tried to speak, blood gushing from his nose as he stood up. Adam lunged at him, knocking him back down to the carpet. Lawrence was too stunned to say anything as Adam practically straddled him, jabbing his finger in Lawrence's bloody face.

"I have every damn right to be angry, you bastard! You left me there! I was trapped in that hell hole for four fucking days. You were only there for, what, six hours? You promised me that you'd send me help, that you wouldn't forget about me. And what did you do, you fucking asshole? You forgot about me. Don't even fucking deny it. You didn't remember until after you were recovering from your operation, when they managed to connect your foot back to your goddamn leg. Do you have any idea what it's like, Lawrence? To be trapped in a pitch-black room, where it's so dark that opening and closing your eyes makes no difference? Where some…some psychopath mocks you and talks to you, but you don't know where he is? To have some sicko touch you in total darkness? To be in agony because some guy shot you in the shoulder, and then have it become infected because you're lying on a shit covered floor? I almost lost my arm thanks to you!" Adam shouted.

Lawrence noticed, though, that Adam's voice wasn't dripping with anger. It was fear.

"I thought I was going to die. I was either going to die of infection, or Jigsaw was going to kill me. I gave up all hope of escaping. I knew you'd forgotten me. You didn't care about the fucking kid locked away in that bathroom. You just wanted to get back to your daughter and stupid wife. I saw. When they rushed me into your hospital on one of those stretcher beds, I saw you all nice and comfy in your bed, with your daughter reading a book to you, and your wife sitting in a chair beside your bed. That was the last thing I saw before losing consciousness. You're an ass. I – I was all a-alone in that fu-fucking room, and, and – " Adam broke off, bowing his head as his throat constricted.

Lawrence raised his hand to put it on Adam's shoulder in a comforting gesture, but Adam smacked it away.

"Don't fucking touch me," he screamed. He rolled away from the doctor and stood up with difficulty, leaning heavily against the wall, wrapping his arms around himself tightly. Lawrence got up, guilt flooding through his body. It was his fault that Adam was like this. Adam was practically out of his mind.

"Adam, I'm really sorry. I'm so sorry. I…I didn't mean to forget. I was just in a bit of shock. After all, I'd cut my own foot off. And I did end up remembering. I did send people back for you, like I promised," Lawrence begged, stepping closer to him.

"Lawrence," Adam said. His voice was strangely calm and soft. Lawrence stopped walking, and waited for Adam to talk again.

"I want you to leave. And don't come back. Just forget about me, like you did two years ago. Shouldn't be too hard."

Lawrence felt the backs of his eyes pricking with tears. He was frustrated and ashamed and angry. He couldn't leave. He couldn't leave Adam like this. He hadn't meant to stir up such strong emotions. He wanted to make things right between them.

"Adam, please, just give me a chance," Lawrence said, taking another step closer. Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of tissues. He threw it at Lawrence, not looking at him.

"Clean up your face, Lawrence. And then go home to your wife and kid," he mumbled. Lawrence held the packet of tissues and stared at Adam unhappily. But the young voyeur didn't say anything else, nor did he look at him. He simply walked away, entered his bedroom, and shut the door. After a second, Lawrence heard the lock of the door click.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey, honey, how was work?" Alison asked, lying on their king-sized bed, reading a book. Lawrence had cleaned his face, like Adam had told him to do.

"Honey?" Alison asked again. Lawrence stopped by the door leading to the master bathroom.

"It was fine," he said. He then went into the bathroom and began removing his clothes, twisting the shower handle. Hot water began spraying from the shower head, and for a moment he just watched the steam curl into the air.

"Who were you with?"

Lawrence blinked out of his daze and turned around. Alison was standing there in her white silk night gown, her hands on her slim hips.

"What – "

"You were with a woman, weren't you?" Alison interrupted. Lawrence stared at her, shocked.

"No, I stopped by a friend's place," he said. She glared at him, her face twisting in anger. _Great, now the stupid bitch is going to start an argument over an assumption. _

"You're lying to me. You were in bed with another woman. You're cheating on me, you bastard!" she hissed. Lawrence rubbed his face with his hands.

"Why do you say that, Alison?" he asked tiredly.

"Because I know it's the truth!" she yelled. Lawrence sat down on the edge of the tub, tugging his socks off. She always accused him of cheating on her. This was nothing new.

"Alison, just stop. I'm not in the mood for this," he said. Alison promptly turned on her heel, stormed out, and slammed the door behind her.

_Thank God for small miracles._

**Thanks for reading this, please review! :) I think I might update another chapter later, but I'm not sure yet. I still have to update my other fanfic. Once again, thanks for reading. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

_****_**Disclaimers: I don't own Saw or any of the characters.**

**Other: Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it! I hope you all had a great time with your loved ones, and that you're all now stuffed and feeling like you're about to burst. XD I know I am! I decided to upload the third chapter. :) Also, I've finally decided on how long to make this story. This story is going to be ten chapters, I believe. It might be a bit longer, but for now, I believe ten is a good number for this one. **

**Enjoy reading this, and thank you for the reviews, they're wonderful! :)**

_I'm so fucking bored right now. I have no money, which means I can't really do anything outside my apartment. Because we're at a time where you have to pay to fucking breathe. Living in New York doesn't exactly help. You can't buy a pack of cigarettes for less than ten bucks. It's insane. Normally, I'd go and take a bunch of pictures to sell. But you'll never guess what the fuck happened yesterday. Dr. Shithead broke my camera. That's right. Lawrence Gordon. I was walking to go get those pictures of my neighbor and her boyfriend, when WHAM! I slam into him, because he's creeping outside my door. He's so tall and strong that he felt like a fucking tree, first of all, and he knocked me over. I landed on my camera, and it broke. Two thousand dollars were just shredded in front of my face. You'll never believe what happens next. I fucking fainted. Well, let me defend myself first. I'm so hungry that I'm considering going over to my neighbor and demanding for food. She's kind of a bitch, but I'm sure if I threaten to tell her husband, she'll be sending me back to my apartment with her refrigerator. Then, I haven't slept in about three days. I can't help it. Every time I close my eyes, I see that stupid fucking pig mask lunge at me. In my dreams, I'm back in the bathroom, chained to the wall. Lawrence is sawing his foot off, and I'm scared shitless. Would you want to sleep if you were only going to re-live that shit? Didn't think so. Anyway, his random and very unwanted appearance shocked me, and I guess the mixture of the three was too overwhelming. Prince Charming brings me into my apartment, as if he owns the place. And does he leave after that? No, of course not. He tries to fucking apologize. For what, you ask? For leaving me in that goddamn hell hole! THAT'S WHAT. He had the nerve to ask for my forgiveness. He was trying to defend himself by saying that he was just in shock. Bull shit. I was in shock after he shot me in the shoulder. But you know what I did? I saved his ass when that dude came in and tried to kill him. I KILLED someone to save his life! I fucking killed someone! I grabbed that toilet seat and beat him to death. I beat him with every ounce of fear, energy, and strength I had. He was a pulp by the time Lawrence grabbed my arm to stop me. You would think that after I saved his life, he would return the favor. But, no. He forgot about me. And if he thinks I'll ever forgive him, he's fucking wrong. It's pretty pathetic that I'm sitting here writing in a journal because I have absolutely nothing else to do. This is so – Goddamn it, someone's at the door. Probably my landlord. I've been blasting my music for the past hour. I thought he was at work. Holy shit, if he bangs on my door one more time, I'm going to lose it. Talk to you later, I guess._

Adam rolled out of bed, wearing a stained and wrinkled white under shirt, and a pair of black boxers. He slid the notebook under his pillow, ran his fingers through his messy locks, and began padding barefoot to the door. He smacked the power button of his boombox, and the music abruptly cut off in the middle of an amazing drum solo. The apartment fell eerily silent, the intense beat of the song still pulsing in Adam's head. The landlord continued knocking at the door.

"Holy shit, chill out, I'm coming!" Adam yelled, unlocking the door. There were four bolts, and then a lock on the door handle. After multiple clicks, Adam swung the door open and became face to face with a man who could've been a movie star with his good looks, but was instead a wealthy oncologist. Adam went to slam the door shut, but Lawrence stuck his foot in the door way.

"What part did you not fucking understand about 'leave and don't come back'? I thought I made myself pretty fucking clear," he snapped. Lawrence held up a white envelope, and a plastic bag. The smell of Chinese food was almost orgasmic.

"I promised to pay for your camera, didn't I? Here's the two thousand dollars. And I know you're hungry, so I brought some food. I hope Chinese is okay?" Lawrence said, his voice light. Adam took the envelope and tore it open. Sure enough, there's a check for two thousand dollars. He then moved to shut the door.

"What about the food?" Lawrence asked. Adam glared at him.

"I'm not hungry," he lied. He was obviously starving, but his pride came first. There was no way he was going to accept pity-food from Lawrence. If he thought that bringing him food would win his acceptance, he was wrong. Lawrence sighed.

"Adam, don't be stupid. I know you're hungry. You have no food in your kitchen. Just take the bag," he said. Adam shook his head and again began trying to shut the door. But Lawrence wouldn't budge. In fact, he pushed against the door. For nearly five minutes, they fought over the door, each one shoving from their end, yelling at each other. Finally, Lawrence managed to wiggle his way into the apartment, grunting in mild pain as Adam tried crushing him with the door in order to make him leave. But Lawrence was determined, and tripped inside.

"I'm not going to leave until you eat," Lawrence insisted, a bit out of breath. He walked into the kitchen and placed the bag onto the counter.

"Just because you brought me food doesn't mean that I forgive you," Adam snapped, grabbing the bag and going into the living room with it. He sat down on the couch and pulled a pair of chopsticks out of its paper wrapper, peering into the bag at what was inside. It took a great amount of self-control not to sigh in glorious bliss.

"That's fine," Lawrence said calmly, sitting down slowly onto a reclining chair, glancing about for cockroaches. He watched as Adam skillfully scooped the noodles into his mouth with the chopsticks. Interesting. The two were silent, Adam eating the Chinese food with great pleasure, and Lawrence watching him, lost in thought.

"Can you stop fucking staring at me?" Adam suddenly demanded, scowling. Lawrence blinked.

"Why?" he asked. The younger man shot him a glare before rummaging through the bag again, pulling out a coke zero. He popped it open and took a swig before setting it down on the cheap coffee table.

"Because it's making me uncomfortable; I don't like people staring at me," Adam grumbled. Lawrence was surprised that he'd even shared that. He didn't say anything, though, and instead nodded, looking away. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Adam relax a little, those grey eyes watching him. Then the unreadable gaze went back down to the sesame chicken.

"Adam, it was horribly cruel of me to forget about you. I myself don't know how I managed to do that. I guess it was just the shock of realizing I'd just sawed my own foot off, and the fact that I'd managed to get away and find help. I crawled out of the house, and across the road, just as a truck driver was driving by. He almost ran me over, but saw me at the last second, and pulled over. He brought me to the hospital, and we managed to get there quick enough to save my foot. When I woke up, my family was there, and all I could think about was how relieved I was that they were safe and alright. A detective came to speak with me, four days later. He asked me if I'd been alone in the room. And I just about had a heart attack. I panicked. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten you. I told him where you were, and he sent out a rescue team. The guilt and shame never left me. To this day, I'm still disgusted with myself. I promised to help you, and I broke that promise. I really am sorry. I know you don't want to forgive me, but as long as you know I'm truly sorry, I suppose I'll be okay with that," Lawrence spoke softly, looking at the ground.

There was a long silence, longer than he'd expected, and he looked up. Adam had pulled his knees up to his chest, his fingers of his left hand knotted into his own hair. He chewed on his food silently, his right arm curled around his body protectively. His expression was unreadable.

"Adam, I really want to make things right. I feel that we should be closer. We survived a torturous game together that had killed dozens of others. I know I messed up, and I'll never be sorry enough. There's no way to make up for my selfish mistake, I know, but –"

"Stop talking," Adam interrupted, glancing over at him. His eyes were cold, and it was obvious that he didn't care about what Lawrence had to say. He had no intentions of creating a friendship, or even an understanding acquaintanceship. In a way, this hurt Lawrence more than if Adam had actually said it. If he'd said it, the words could've been meaningless, or simply hiding what he truly felt. But the fact that Adam didn't even have to say anything, Lawrence just had to look at his face, was painfully stunning.

Lawrence got up, frustrated. He knew it would take a lot of time to melt the ice from Adam's angry heart. And, for reasons unknown, Lawrence would patiently work at it. He was determined to set things right.

Why should it matter? He knew for a fact that he wouldn't give Adam a second glance in public had they not been through a traumatizing kidnapping. Adam could drop a box full of pictures, and Lawrence would've walked right on by without hesitation. And why would he not? Adam was the scum of society. He was a poor voyeur, with vulgar language and an immature, rude, uncaring attitude and personality. Lawrence was a wealthy oncologist with manners. They were complete opposites. They would have never socialized. And as he gazed at Adam, he knew that Adam knew, too.

Maybe that was another reason why Adam wouldn't accept the apology.

But Lawrence couldn't help but care. He cared more than he should. And that was why couldn't just let Adam continue hating him. He had to make him understand how truly sorry he was. He did feel terrible. How do you forget about someone you'd shot and left behind? How do you forget about someone who'd begged you not to leave? How do you forget Adam Faulkner? The boy who'd looked so utterly confused and terrified chained to the rusty pipe, soaking wet and trembling like a puppy forgotten in the rain. The boy who had sobbed and screamed at Lawrence, insisting that he not saw his foot off. It seemed like he'd be impossible to forget. Yet Lawrence had managed to do so.

You had to look at it from another perspective, too, though. Lawrence had been in shock. He'd just chopped his own foot off. He'd crawled out of the hell house. His foot had been successfully placed back on. His family, who had been held hostage and had gone through traumatizing events, too, who Lawrence had thought had been killed, were safe and sound. He'd had the chance to be with them again. So many thoughts had whirled through his mind. The awe that he'd survived, the stunned amazement and joy that he had his foot back, the relief that his family was safe...The other man had been forgotten. For four days.

But Adam had gone through complete hell. He'd been isolated in that pitch-black, foul-smelling bathroom, alone, without food, water, or anything. He'd been shot by Lawrence, and was in agony. His wound had become infected. He'd been mocked and verbally abused by the psychotic serial killer. He'd probably lost all hope of being rescued after only a day of torture. He knew he'd been forgotten. He'd thought that he was going to die. It doesn't get much worse than that. Four days he'd been like that.

Adam had every right to be angry. Lawrence would've been angry as well. And it wasn't just anger that Adam felt. He was afraid, hurt, and traumatized. He was scarred. And no amount of time could heal that. That haunted look in Adam's large, child-like eyes would never leave. It didn't help that Adam lived alone in such poverty. There was really nothing Lawrence could do about that – he'd gladly offer to take Adam in, but it was obvious that the young voyeur would firmly decline.

"Look…I want to help you – "

"I don't need your damn help," Adam snapped, scowling, eating faster in his anger.

"And I'll do whatever it takes. I have to go to work. Here's my number, and my address. If you ever need anything, anything at all, please…please…feel absolutely free to call me or drop by my apartment," Lawrence continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted. He wrote the information down on a napkin and handed it to Adam. The young man refused to take it, or even look at Lawrence, so the oncologist set it down on the table, and walked to the door.

"Good bye, Adam," Lawrence said, a slight smile touching his lips. Adam swallowed his food, and set aside the empty carton. He drank from his can of soda.

Lawrence sighed and stepped out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him. After a couple of minutes, Adam slowly stood up and set the remaining food onto the table. There wasn't much left, and his once empty belly, cramped with hunger pains, was now beginning to feel full. There was a package of egg rolls and some beef and broccoli. Chinese food was one of Adam's greatest weaknesses. He loved it, despite how unhealthy it was.

The young man trudged to the front door and leaned against the rough wood. His forehead thudded against the hard surface. His left arm wound around his body tightly, while the right one reached up and locked each bolt precisely.

Then there was silence. The door was locked. And Adam was left alone, leaning against the door, hugging himself with one arm, while the other hung listlessly by his side. His stormy eyes drifted closed, and he allowed his thoughts to pull him into their deep, dark embrace. For better, or for worse.

**I hope you liked this chapter! I rather liked the ending part. :) I'm planning on picking things up from here, throwing in a good fight, and some more conflict. Chapter 4 is going to be interesting...(; Alright, leave a review, please! Thanks for reading! I might update again tonight, simply because I'm in a writing-mood. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimers: I don't own Saw or any of the characters.**

**Other: Okay, here's chapter four! It's kind of short, and not the best, but the content is pretty necessary for the future. Either way, I hope you enjoy it to the best of your abilities, and look forward to the next one. ;) I said that this one would be interesting, but I guess I lied. D: Because I realized that this had to happen before anything interesting could occur. SO, sorry for the disappointment, haha. **

_The darkness was suffocating: a huge, heavy, inky blackness that consumed his entire body, pouring into his lungs, covering his eyes with its thick hands, and molesting his soul with cold fear. It attacked at his mind, numbing it with shock and pained confusion before hurling into a terrifying whirlwind of panic and random claustrophobia. It may seem strange that he felt claustrophobic in this rather spacious and empty bathroom of utter darkness, but he did. He felt like the darkness was crushing him. Adam curled into a tight, shaking ball in order that he might create a false sense of security for himself. Blood gushed from his shoulder, pain eating away at the upper half of his body. Everything hurt; emotionally and physically. He didn't know if Lawrence would come back for him…If he even made it out of the house to begin with. Who knows? Jigsaw might find and kill him along the way. A hoarse, choked sob clawed its way out from Adam's throat, raw from all the screaming he'd done earlier, the crying and the begging. In the distance, he could hear croak-like laughing. He couldn't tell where it was coming from. It could be from outside the bathroom, inside, or even right behind him; it was impossible to tell. _

_ 'Adam…Adam Faulkner…'_

The young voyeur lunged forward on his mattress, his bare, sweaty chest heaving as he forced his lungs to drag in more air. His bangs were matted to his forehead, his cheeks and neck flushed, trembling all over. It was nightmares like these that caused him to stay awake at night. He didn't want to re-live what had happened two years ago. It was too much.

His speeding heart began to slow, and he worked on relaxing his body. According to his cell phone, it was six in the morning. Adam rolled off of the mattress and stumbled out of the bedroom, heading over to the bathroom. The sweat had begun to dry on his body, and a shower was much needed.

Every light was on, as usual. He never went to bed with them off, for obvious reasons. Despite the waste of electricity, the nightmares were not kept at bay.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lawrence finally closed his medical journal, setting it aside. His head was pounding from reading the difficult passage for the past six hours. He had a new patient, and the tumor in his brain was rather strange looking, so Lawrence thought it'd be best if he refreshed his memory on that type of tumor. Diana had been tucked in hours ago, and was sound asleep.

Unfortunately, Allison was still awake, and glaring at him from their bed. Once again, she was angry at him. She claimed that he wasn't spending enough time with her and Diana. Which was ridiculous; he had a demanding job, and if she wanted to keep their expensive apartment and have food to put on the table, then he had to continue working. He enjoyed his job. Sure, sometimes he was at the hospital all day, and didn't come home until late, but he always made up for it. He always bought presents for Diana, brought her to amusement parks, zoos, and fun restaurants whenever he had time.

Allison had always been kind of selfish and spoiled. She'd been pampered as a child and had always gotten what she'd wanted. She wanted time with Lawrence, but at the moment, he couldn't give that to her. So, naturally, she was having a temper tantrum.

"I've been thinking – " Lawrence began.

"Oh, have you now?" Allison said sarcastically. Lawrence shut his mouth and looked at her patiently, waiting for her to quiet. Her jaw set, Allison eventually settled back down against her pillows.

"I've been thinking that maybe we should take a break from one another," the oncologist admitted. His wife simply stared at him, as if waiting for him to continue. He licked his lips, looking down at the book in his lap.

"All we've been doing for…for _years _now…is fight. We fight about everything. I'll glance over at you, and you'll start an argument, insisting that I gave you a dirty look. You hate my work schedule, and I love my job. Maybe it's time we leave each other for a while. You know, you and Diana could go stay with your mother for a couple of months, and I'll stay here," Lawrence continued.

It was only fair that he'd keep the apartment; he'd paid for it. Not to mention that it was so expensive that Allison would never be able to continue paying for it. She was a stay-at-home mom. She'd have to get a serious job, and who would watch Diana? So she'd just have to live with her mother.

"I think you just want me out of your life so that you're free to screw with any woman you want. You're at 'work' so often that we're always taking a 'break' from one another. It's always been just me and Diana. So what you're saying is that you want me to move out, taking our child with us so you don't have to worry about anything, and then eventually divorce me," Allison said, her voice gradually rising.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about. You're assuming things, as usual. I have never cheated on you, ever. I'm not going to fall into your trap. The stupidity of what you just said is obviously bait. You're looking for a fight, and I'm not going to give you one. I never said anything about a divorce, but yes, the idea has come across my mind. I don't think we're as happy together as we used to be. I do love Diana, and I'd want a fair share of custody over her, but obviously you'd want to keep her, because she's your daughter, and you gave birth to her. I'd pay child support, you know that," Lawrence explained, fighting to keep his voice calm. Once you start yelling at Allison, it turns into a screaming match. And he wasn't in the mood for it.

"Whatever, Lawrence, you want a divorce? Fine, you've got yourself a divorce. I can do so much better. I'll find myself a man who will actually care about me and spend time with me," Allison shouted, on the verge of tears. She got out of bed and stormed to their door.

"Honey, I do care about you. But look how things have been between us. Maybe marriage counseling – "

"Lawrence, enough. I'm not going to humiliate myself by attending counseling. We'll talk about this some other time. But for now, I think it's safe to say that our marriage is coming to an end, correct? Now, may I ask one favor of you?" she said, her voice quivering.

Guilt clenched at Lawrence's heart. He felt terrible for making his beautiful wife cry. But it was the truth; their marriage had been spiraling down the drain for years now. She really was a kind, sweet woman, and she was very good to Diana. But Allison was simply under a lot of stress right now, and ever since being held hostage in their own apartment, she'd been suspicious, jumpy, and controlling. And Lawrence couldn't handle it anymore. It was time to break it off, try staying away from one another.

"Alright," Lawrence agreed quietly.

"Could you just…leave? I'll spend the day packing with Diana. We'll begin moving some of our stuff out. I'll have my father drive over, and he can help transport everything. But I don't want you here while this is taking place. It'll just make things worse, and Diana won't understand. I know it's your day off, and you'll want to relax, and I'm sorry, but…"

"It'll just make things easier. I understand," Lawrence interrupted, nodding. He stood up and went over to her, taking her into his arms. They hugged for a long time, her tears spilling onto his shirt. When he stepped away, she leaned up and kissed him.

The kiss would've continued for quite a while; she'd turned it into a passionate session. But a vibration in Lawrence's pocket broke the moment, and he pulled his cell phone out.

_Unknown number: Go get a cheese pizza, sum Godiva choc., 28 Days Later, & a case of beer. None of that gross shit, either. Get Budweiser. Hurry up._

Lawrence grinned. There was only one person who'd send a request like that. His soon to be ex-wife glanced at the phone.

"What?" she asked, noticing his grin. "Who is that?"

"Adam Faulkner," he answered with a chuckle, pocketing his phone. She blinked, surprised.

"You mean that kid who was…you know," the blonde asked. Lawrence nodded. With a last good bye, Lawrence grabbed his wallet and car keys, and left his apartment.

It was time to try and make things right.

**So, I didn't go into detail when it came to Lawrence and Allison's kiss, because I hate her, and I don't want to ruin the first romantic scene of this story by making it happen between those two. -_- Anyway, I know this chapter wasn't very good, but please review, and I promise an excellent chapter five. :) Thanks for reading!**

**P.S. : 28 Days Later is a really good movie. :D Check it out.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimers: I don't own Saw or any of the characters.**

**Other: Woo, chapter 5! I meant to update it last night, but then something else came up, so I waited to do it today. I hope you guys enjoy this one. I think I like how it turned out, so hopefully you will, too. I'm not sure what's going on, but I feel like my writing skill is declining along with the quality of this story. I'm sorry about that. I'm going to try to figure everything out, and I promise better quality later on. Anyway, enjoy!**

Carrying a large box of cheese pizza, the greasy, delicious aroma teasing his nose, a heavy case of Budweiser beer in his free hand, and balancing Godiva (no nuts) chocolate and the movie on top of the pizza box, Lawrence carefully walked towards Adam's apartment. He had to admit, Adam had great taste when it came to food and movies. Sure, it was only seven in the morning, and he was surprised that Adam was even up, but that didn't make a difference. Not to mention that this rundown apartment was so cheap and old that there was no light from the outdoors. There were a couple of ancient lights hanging from the ceilings, casting a sickly orange glow to sort of light the way.

He glanced from side to side, a little unnerved as he finished climbing up another set of stairs. The elevator was so disgusting that Lawrence had decided to walk up to the fifth floor instead. He could hear babies crying, couples screaming at one another, music blasting, glass breaking…This sounded like a terrible place to live. It was almost tragic in a way. How could someone live in a place so dirty and –

As Lawrence rounded the final corner, Adam's splintered door in sight, about fifty feet away, he was grabbed by someone and pulled close to a beefy, sweaty body. He let out a startled yelp, chocolate bars sliding off of the box and hitting the floor, along with the movie. The clatter echoed down the hallway. Lawrence held tight to the pizza and beer, looking up at this stranger.

The man was about three inches taller than Lawrence, and looked like he weighed about two hundred and sixty pounds of pure muscle. He looked like he was black with a mixture of Spanish.

"Well, aren't you handsome?" he cooed, holding Lawrence's arm painfully tight. The doctor was wearing black dress pants and shoes, as usual, along with a green button down, long-sleeved, V-neck shirt.

"Please let go of me, I'm trying to get somewhere," Lawrence managed to say calmly and steadily, continuing to stare at this large stranger, struggling to keep the fear out of his eyes.

"No, I think you'll be coming with me. You've got some good grub, and I think I need someone to…entertain…me this morning, if you catch my drift," the man rumbled, a cruel grin spreading across his face, exposing a mouthful of yellowed teeth adorned with nicotine stains.

"How about this, you take the food, and I'll walk away," Lawrence suggested, trying to pull free. But this guy had an iron grip, and his hold only tightened, yanking Lawrence closer and almost causing him to drop the pizza.

"No, that's not good enough. I need food _and _entertainment. Now let's go," the man chuckled.

Lawrence suddenly felt a warm, firm arm wrap around his waist. Great, the man had brought friends. He tried to pull away, panic beginning to balloon within him, but the other man only tightened his hold around his waist. A smooth face nuzzled against the side of his neck.

"Babe, you dropped my chocolate," Adam murmured, leaning his body against Lawrence's, and peering up at the offender through lowered lids. Lawrence glanced up at the other man, too. He was shocked to see that the stranger looked stunned and…afraid.

"You know this guy?" the man asked Adam. Adam slid his hand beneath Lawrence's shirt, and slowly dragged it up his toned torso, until it rested over his heart. A shiver danced up Lawrence's spine, and he looked at Adam. But those grey eyes, carrying dark bags and rimmed red, were focused on the other man. His expression was unreadable, but his stance declared total possession over Lawrence.

"You've frightened my boy, Tyrone," He said, as if that were answer enough.

"Excuse me, your what?" Lawrence hissed. Adam dug his fingers painfully deep into Lawrence's back, in a way of shutting him up.

"I…I'm sorry, Adam…I didn't know he was yours…I didn't…I just wanted to have some fun, ya know? If I knew he was yours, I wouldn't have gone near him, I swear it," Tyrone stammered, backing away a little. Adam finally glanced up at Lawrence, who quickly met his eyes.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked. Lawrence opened his mouth to answer, but Tyrone interrupted him.

"I didn't hurt him! I didn't touch him," the man insisted. Adam whirled to face him, keeping his arm around Lawrence.

"Was I fucking talking to you?" he shouted, anger flashing across his face. Tyrone flinched, and then quickly shook his head. Still glaring, Adam repeated his question to Lawrence.

"N-No, I'm fine," the oncologist answered. Adam nodded, and then looked back at Tyrone.

"Pick up my chocolate and movie, and put it on top of the pizza box," he ordered. Tyrone hurried over to the pile of chocolate bars, scooped them up, grabbed the movie, and did as he was told. Adam had rested his head against Lawrence's shoulder, watching Tyrone through half-closed eyes.

"I'm sorry, Adam…I didn't know you were…I didn't know he…I – "

"Shut the fuck up. If I ever catch you near him again, or if he tells me that you bothered him, I will give those photos to your wife, and I will tell her about what just happened right now," Adam snarled. Tyrone nodded, and then hurried away. Once he was out of sight, Adam released Lawrence and began walking to his apartment.

"Come on, let's go," he called over his shoulder. Lawrence watched him, stunned. Adam had just saved him from something that could've been anything between a beating and a rape…Or even both. His body still tingled warmly from where Adam had been touching him. Especially his neck, the memory of having that smooth face buried against it was rather…pleasing. Adam had been very warm, as if he'd just taken a hot shower or ran.

The oncologist quickly fell into step behind Adam and followed him into his apartment, bringing the goodies into the living room while Adam locked up. He set the pizza and chocolate down on the coffee table, the case of beer on the floor, and the movie on top of the TV.

"Who was that? And why did he seem so afraid of you?" Lawrence asked. He watched as Adam rubbed at his face with both hands before taking the movie off of the TV, opening the case, and inserting the disc into the DVD player.

"Tyrone is one of my neighbors. I caught him having sex with multiple women while his children played with a puzzle nearby. I took a bunch of pictures, and I use them to blackmail him; usually to buy me food or whatever. His wife works at the Laundromat across the street," Adam replied. He sat down on the couch, next to Lawrence, and opened the box of pizza, grabbing a slice and taking a hungry bite out of it, his eyes drifting closed in bliss. A satisfied groan sounded at the back of his throat, and Lawrence watched him with slight awe. He opened the case of beer for them before taking a slice of pizza for himself.

"So why did you invite me over?" Lawrence asked. Adam took one look at him, and then turned his gaze onto the television, ignoring the question. He settled against the cushions of the couch, one arm wrapping around his body while the other was used to hold the pizza slice. Lawrence knew that something was wrong, but there was no pushing it. Adam wouldn't answer.

"Well, thank you…For helping me out back there," the oncologist said, sitting back and taking a bite from his pizza. Adam's gaze flickered up to him, held his eyes for a silent moment, and then nodded once before looking back at the TV. The movie had started. Lawrence glanced from Adam, to the TV, and then to the food, unable to resist a grin.

Breakfast of the champions.

**Thank you for reading, hopefully you liked it! Please review, it'll make my day! :) **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimers: I don't own Saw or any of the characters.**

**Other: I'm sorry for taking so long to update. I've been really busy, and I haven't felt very motivated to update anything. It's finally winter break for me. :D Which means more writing! This chapter is the worst, in my opinion, and very short, but I just wanted to get the journey towards romance started. I NEED REVIEWS! I'm not sure how long I'm going to make this one, because I don't know if many people are really enjoying it. :/ If it helps motivate you to review, there will be smut in the next chapter. ;) And it's not going to be a crappy thousand words like this chapter...I plan on it being long and quite dramatic, actually. It's definitely something to look forward to. They're not going to really talk about Adam's bathroom scene anymore, for a long time. I hope you like heated, intense passion, because that will be in the next chapter! So, try to enjoy this chapter, and REVIEW PLEASE! :) Let me know what you think so far.**

He flew forward with a strangled gasp, soaked in his own sweat, shaking all over. His hair was matted to his head, his eyes wide with terror, chest heaving as his lungs struggled to pull in the much needed oxygen. He lurched right into a pair of warm, firm, secure arms, and was pulled against a strong body. For a moment, stunned and dazed, he allowed himself to be held like that as he regained control of his breathing and heart beat. A large hand stroked his sweaty back, while fingers sifted through his damp hair. He hadn't felt this safe in a long time. It was…nice.

"You fell asleep."

Adam jerked back, out of the safe embrace, realizing where he was and who he was with. He was on his couch, and Lawrence was sitting there, looking at him with concern. He glanced at the television. It was turned off.

"Why didn't you wake me up, asshole? I missed the whole fucking movie," he snapped, smacking Lawrence's chest.

"You had a nightmare," The oncologist said. Adam's face smoothed into a cold mask. It was obvious that Lawrence was toeing an invisible line.

"I'm aware," he replied, absolutely motionless, glaring at Lawrence, as if daring him to continue the conversation. The doctor accepted the dare.

"How bad was it?" he asked. The voyeur pushed himself up off the couch and walked several feet away, running his hands through his hair. It stuck up crazily. His fingers knotted into his hair tightly as he paced.

"That's none of your fucking business," Adam snarled. Lawrence stood up and walked over to him very slowly, almost ambling.

"Was it about the bathroom, about Jigsaw?" he questioned softly, once he'd reached him. Adam threw his arms away from his hair, shoving Lawrence backwards.

"Shut up!" he shouted. But Lawrence continued to advance towards him, keeping his calm, sure attitude and expression.

"Did I leave in your dream? Had I crawled away? Or was I still there, getting ready to shoot you?"

By now, Adam's breathing had quickened, and his chest was falling and rising rapidly. His eyes darkened and flashed with anger, with a glint of fear.

It was working. Lawrence had tried for months to prove how horribly sorry he was, how he truly wanted to make amends and improve their relationship. But Adam refused. He was too stubborn. If Lawrence could manage to break him a little, like stretching a stubbornly tight balloon that refuses to be blown up, maybe he'd finally cave and agree to work things out. It was a lose it all or win it all situation.

"Back off, man," Adam warned, not liking how close Lawrence was getting. He took a backwards step himself, curling his hands into tight fists in case he had to hit Lawrence. The oncologist ignored him.

"Was it just you, alone, in the dark? Was Jigsaw talking to you?" he asked quietly. Adam swung his arm, a furious and wild look flashing across his face. It would've been a painfully powerful hit if his fist had connected with Lawrence's face, as intentioned, but Lawrence had seen it coming, and had managed to catch Adam's wrist. He pushed the younger man backward, until Adam's back hit the wall with a soft thud. Lawrence stepped up to him, their body's touching, Lawrence's keeping Adam's trapped against the wall. He was gripping Adam's wrists tightly. The voyeur had no way to escape or fight back.

"I don't know what you're trying to get at. I don't know if this some kind of sick game, if you get off on this, if you think this is funny. You have no idea who you're messing with, man. Get off of me and leave," Adam snarled, trying to pull his wrists free. But Lawrence didn't relent.

"What was he saying in the dream?" he asked. Silence; the voyeur glared hatefully at him, loathing radiating from that lithe body.

"Was he saying that I wouldn't come back? Did he say that you were going to die in there, because I didn't care enough to return? I have a family of my own. Why would I rescue some stupid, obnoxious, annoying kid?" Lawrence continued. Adam had slowly stopped struggling.

"You tell me," Adam breathed, his voice low. Lawrence moved closer. He could feel Adam's heat seeping through his clothes. He could feel Adam's heart, racing like a hummingbird's, against Lawrence's chest, completely out of sync with his own calm beat. He could feel him tremble.

"Because I care about you," Lawrence said simply. Adam locked eyes with him.

"That's not fucking good enough," he murmured, with a very slight shake of his head. Lawrence rested his forehead against Adam's. He heard Adam's breath pull in sharply in surprise.

"I can't stay away," the doctor admitted. Adam looked into his eyes, confused.

"I can't stay away from you," Lawrence repeated. He pressed his body closer to Adam's, and the young man swallowed hard with an audible click.

"I don't understand," he whispered, once again trying to pull away. He didn't like the situation. He didn't like being pinned against the wall, the feeling of being trapped, or the way Lawrence had complete dominance over him at the moment. He opened his mouth to demand that he be let free, but suddenly, Lawrence's mouth had closed over his own, and Adam's eyes flashed wide open in shock and disbelief. His lips were warm and soft, fitting perfectly against Adam's slightly chapped and bitten ones. Heat exploded in Adam's stomach, and he flinched against the wall, gasping.

Lawrence still held Adam's wrists tightly against the wall by the sides of his head, causing him to be unable to resist. He felt the oncologist's tongue tracing his lips, and his mind went out of control, his head going numb, no longer capable of thinking straight. His thoughts were a whir, tumbling and racing incoherently, and he stood there frozen, paralyzed by the tidal wave of various emotions that crashed down on him.

The blonde doctor finally broke the intense kiss, leaving Adam feeling light-headed and numb. He breathed hard and shaky, staring at Lawrence in stunned silence, arms slowly falling to his sides as Lawrence released his wrists.

"I care very deeply for you, Adam. Sometimes, it really hurts knowing that I will never be able to make you completely understand. I can't explain to you how I feel. I can't stay away from you, because I love you," Lawrence explained quietly. He watched as Adam slid down the wall, his knees pulling up to his chest. The young man reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. Lighting the cigarette up, he let the lighter fall to the ground when he was done with it, and took a deep drag.

Lawrence didn't know what to do or say now. Adam simply sat there smoking, his eyes glistening with tears that he refused to let escape. The doctor knelt down in front of him, and Adam's tear-filled eyes met his, much to his surprise.

"Get out of my apartment. Now," Adam ordered, his voice rather steady. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and turned his head away from Lawrence with a shaky sigh. The oncologist could do nothing but that. He wasn't going to argue. He'd done everything he could. Adam just wouldn't allow him into his life.

Lawrence left without another word. And the minute Adam heard the door close, he blinked, and the tears began to fall.

**Thanks for reading, please review! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimers: I don't own Saw or any of the characters.**

__**Other: Alright, so here's the chapter you've all been waiting for. :) It's long, for once, haha. I think I could've done a better job, and I'm not completely satisfied with it. But I'm exhausted, I don't feel particularly well, and it's almost three in the morning, so whatever. For the first chapter of smut, I should've put more work into it, but I just really wanted to update, so. I hope you guys enjoy it, anyway. Let me know what you think of their first sexual encounter. Thank you for the reviews, and enjoy!**

**Dedicated to Nicole. :) I know she's been waiting for this moment, and she's been such a great support, a wonderful and loyal reviewer, and an awesome friend. Hopefully this won't be a disappointment! Read and enjoy! :) Thank you so much for helping me get to this point. ^^  
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_Lovely eyes the color of a churning, raging ocean in the midst of a brutal storm gazed up at him, unblinking, unfeeling, dead, void of any emotion. They were glossy and filled to the brim with tears of agonizing misery and hurt, carrying such a variety of emotions that it was impossible to decide on which was the strongest; pain, sadness, confusion, anger…There were too many feelings in those large eyes. Those orbs of a broken young man who had seen too much, abused and beaten by the world and the people within; sometimes it was scary looking into them, gazing at those cold eyes, wondering what was going through that mind of his. But at this moment, those eyes told him __everything,__ and wondering was not necessary. Those eyes clearly stated that he felt nothing but loathing for the doctor, that he was dead to him. _

_ 'Get out.'_

_ Those words rang flatly through Lawrence's mind. They stabbed at his heart and dug their way in, clawing through his soul and crawling through his mind, spreading a cold numbness through his strong body. He was not to be argued with. Not now. _

_ He watched as Adam fought to keep those tears locked away in those fascinating grey eyes. It killed him, absolutely killed him to know that he was the reason for those tears, that he had caused the internal battle that now raged within Adam. He'd gone too far. He'd grabbed Adam's tiny scrap of trust and appreciation for him, and he'd shredded it into a million tiny pieces, impossible to piece back together. He'd stomped on those shreds, spat on them, and lit them on fire. When they were nothing but a tiny pile of ash, he'd scooped it up and blown it into Adam's face. _

_ 'Get out.'_

A pair of sharp but deep blue eyes blinked open slowly. Lawrence was lying on his large, insanely comfortable, king-sized bed, amongst a pile of expensive, soft pillows, covered with a warm, heavy comforter. He had one strong arm wrapped around a pillow, holding it close to his firm chest, wishing it were Adam. The gorgeous apartment was silent. Diana was at day-care, and Allison…He had no idea where she was, to be quite frank. There was probably a note on the marble counter in the kitchen. Not that he cared enough to leave the warmth and blissful comfort of his bed to check on his day off. He had the weekend free from work, and it almost made him sigh with gratitude. He needed some rest.

It had been nearly three weeks since he'd left Adam crying and smoking in his apartment. They hadn't contacted each other since then. Lawrence had gone home, argued with Allison for a while about his whereabouts, and then crawled into bed, where he slept until his alarm clock threw a tantrum, announcing quite rudely that it was time to go to work. Then he and Allison had talked about the night before, apologized to one another, and made up with a long embrace and a promise to go out for dinner after Lawrence got home from work. He'd hugged and kissed Diana good bye, promising her a present if she behaved for Mommy, and then had left the apartment.

Unbeknownst to Lawrence, Adam had smoked almost an entire pack of cigarettes. The only reason why he hadn't finished the entire pack was because it was his last, and he wanted to save a couple until he could scramble together some money to buy a new pack. After his throat was raw from the inhalation of smoke, he'd went to his crazy neighbor, got drunk off his ass with him, and stumbled back into his apartment, where he'd proceeded to scream at his journal, drunken tears trickling down flushed cheeks. Then he'd passed out on his dirty, ancient mattress, to wake up the next morning with a hangover, spending the rest of the day with his head in the toilet.

Back to the present, Lawrence finally managed to coax himself out of bed, and padded his way into the master bathroom, flipping the shower on, twisting the handle all the way to hot, until steam curled into the air, fogging up the long mirror. He finished his morning shower, shave, and brushing of his teeth, rolling his deodorant on before pulling on a pair of his favorite dress pants and a baby blue silk dress shirt. The color complimented his eyes magnificently. He had always been one to dress nicely, even as a child. Sure, a couple of kids had made fun of his polo shirts tucked into a pair of khaki pants, his neatly slicked back hair and expensive shoes, but he hadn't cared. He'd stride proudly through the halls with dignity that would've impressed a rooster. Or even Adam.

After combing his soft blonde hair, Lawrence left the bathroom satisfied, dumping his laundry into the washing machine. He'd promised Allie that he'd do a couple of chores around the house. He picked up the detergent, poured a cupful inside the slot, and then closed the lid of the machine, pressing the power button. Within moments, the familiar and comforting whir of the washer filled the silence of the apartment. Lawrence made his way into the living room, to put away Diana's toys. The child usually picked up after herself, but not today, apparently.

His mind traveled back to Adam as he picked up an armful of stuffed animals and dolls. Maybe he'd been too harsh, too cold. The boy had just had a nightmare, and Lawrence went and bullied him. Yes, it had been necessary to cross the line, but perhaps the timing had been wrong. He should've waited for a day where Adam wasn't still shaking and sweating from the tortures of his sleeping mind. His little performance there had been too cruel. He'd basically thrown months of hard work away, thanks to that. For months, he'd slaved over trying to win Adam's forgiveness, acceptance, and maybe even love. How could Adam ever love him, though? After everything he'd put him through, did Lawrence honestly expect to win his heart?

The oncologist dumped the toys into Diana's large toy-box, walking back into the living room to continue picking up her things. He grabbed a puzzle box, a basket of a plastic tea-set, three tiaras, and a magic wand. He turned and nearly tripped over a toy train on his way to Diana's room, cursing under his breath.

What had happened after he'd left? What had Adam done? How was he feeling now? Maybe he should've gone back over to apologize, to attempt to make up for what he'd done. But deep down, Lawrence knew that it wouldn't have worked. Adam would have slammed the door in his face. Or, maybe, he would've beaten Adam to a bloody pulp, and _then _slammed the door in his face. If Lawrence would've called him, he knew Adam would've checked the caller ID and would've ignored the phone, knowing it was him. He wouldn't have even bothered to answer, to curse him out or anything. No, that would be giving a response. He would've done the more painful thing – simply ignoring him.

So Lawrence did the only thing he could think to do – nothing. Sit around and wait for Adam to come to him. Which was quite the joke; Adam would never go to him, not even if the devil himself crawled from the depths of hell and demanded it. And it was true; in two days, it would be three weeks since their last encounter, and not a word or glance had been exchanged in that awful period. It killed Lawrence. He desperately wanted to see Adam. Not just to see him, but to talk to him, to touch him, to hear that slightly ragged voice of his, to feel that strangely smooth flesh. He would kill to have Adam with him. He'd tried everything he could think of, but Adam was the most stubborn man he'd ever met, and simply refused to allow Lawrence to become close with him. He refused to open up. It was insanely frustrating and depressing.

"What the hell do you want from me, Adam? I'd do anything for you; you name it, I'll do it. I've tried everything. I don't know how to express how horribly sorry I am, how much I honestly, truly care for you. You're rejecting and denying me before I can even open my mouth. Just give me a chance," Lawrence mumbled to himself, his heart aching. He really was heartbroken. He was as sullen and unhappy as a girl suffering through her first break up. It was annoying Allie, who had no idea what was going on.

Lawrence made his third trip back to the living room, grabbing the rest of the toys, and tossed them into her toy-box. Once he'd left the little girl's bedroom, he went into the kitchen and began to wipe down the counters, glancing at the sink full of dirty dishes that needed to be placed into the dishwasher. He sighed; chores could be a real drag, especially when your mind is crammed with an unfortunate problem. Then the note taped to the refrigerator caught his eye.

_Hi, Larry. I went to run a few errands. I needed to return a few library books, pick up some new ones, buy groceries, and visit my father to discuss living arrangements. I will be back by three. I'll pick up Diana on my way home. Enjoy your day off, and please try to get some housework done. Thanks, sweetie. Love, Allie._

He glanced at the digital clock over the stove; it was one o' clock. He had two hours, maybe less, before his soon to be ex-wife came home with their daughter. He loved Diana with all his heart; she was his little princess, his only child, and the most precious little girl he'd ever known. But with everything that had been going on lately, he wanted to just rest on his day off without having to worry about watching the young child, so Allison had agreed to enroll her in daycare for the day.

Lawrence finished wiping the counters down and yanked open the dishwasher, pulling the creaky rack out, and began organizing the dishes into their rightful places to be washed. He tried to get Adam out of his mind, but it was almost impossible. That head of soft, unruly, black hair, those mystical grey eyes, that lean, lithe body of pale heat, that sexy, sarcastic smirk that occasionally played on his lips…How could he possibly push these things out of his mind? Lawrence grit his teeth, slamming the dishwasher closed when he was finished loading it, and stabbing the 'on' button with his index finger.

The doorbell suddenly rang, startling him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the time again. Allison was early. She was always early, so he wasn't surprised. She often thought too deeply into things, and miscalculated how long affairs would actually take. It certainly didn't take until three to pick up groceries, take a visit to the library, and drop by his father in law's house. It was rather disappointing though; Lawrence wanted to relax now that he'd finished most of his chores.

But he walked to the door anyway, spotting the keys to the apartment on the counter. Of course she'd forgotten them; she almost always did. He usually reminded her to grab them, but he'd slept in this morning, and hadn't had the chance.

The knocking continued. Impatient bitch.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he called, scowling when he stubbed his toe on the leg of a chair. He hobbled his way to the door, cursing the chair, and unlocked the bolts. He twisted the handle, pulling the door open, and stepped out of the way so Allie could walk in. He closed the door, bolting it.

"I thought you were going to return around three, so I didn't quite finish the hou-"

Upon turning around, he became face to face with a young man; definitely not the petite blonde he'd been expecting to see. He almost jumped out of his surprise, but resisted, though his eyes widened in shock. Adam looked like he'd barely slept. He stared at the oncologist dully. He wore a pair of dark jeans that rode low on his hips, and a giant cotton grey sweater ten sizes too big for him, engulfing him in its soft cavern. His raven locks stood up in three different directions, and he looked just as pale as always.

"You lied to me," Adam said. His voice was quiet, a little on the low-side. Lawrence frowned, backing up as Adam trudged closer.

"I don't know what you're – "

Adam grabbed a fistful of Lawrence's expensive silk shirt, and slammed him up against the wall, a sudden fire blazing in his eyes. A snarl twisted his mouth, and Lawrence flinched.

"You _bastard,_" he spat, shoving the oncologist harder against the wall, pressing his body against the other's.

"I fucking hate you. You're a lying piece of shit. 'I can't stay away' my ass. Do you remember that line? Do you remember insisting that before you god-damn kissed me?" Adam shouted.

"Adam – " Lawrence tried, but the younger man refused to let him speak.

"You spewed all that shit, and then you don't even try to contact me. It's been two weeks and five days, and do I get a phone call, a vist? Of course fucking not. You lied to me. You can easily stay away. I don't know what the fuck your problem is, or why you think it's fucking fun to mess with me, but I'm gettin' real sick of it. You're a real sick fuck," the voyeur snarled. Before Lawrence could even think about opening his mouth to speak, Adam had suddenly leaned in, crushing his lips against Lawrence's in a bruising, hungry kiss.

If Lawrence wasn't shocked or confused earlier, he certainly was now. The younger man had unclenched the material of Lawrence's shirt to cup his smooth face, though the other hand remained pressed against Lawrence's chest to keep him pinned to the wall. Adam tasted of mint toothpaste and bitter smoke – it sounded weird, and it definitely was a strange combination, but…Lawrence liked it. He gladly opened his mouth to allow Adam's tongue to enter, and soon the young man was exploring his warm, wet mouth. He shivered as Adam's tongue traced the sensitive roof of his mouth, before pulling back to slide over his lower lip, which he proceeded to suck into his mouth, causing Lawrence to utter a quiet groan. Adam nipped at his lower lip sharply, as if telling him to shut up, and rubbed his crotch up against Lawrence's thigh. Heat exploded in the pit of Lawrence's stomach at the feel of Adam's clothed, half-hard member rub against his thigh, and he was even more turned on by the sensation.

Finally, just as Lawrence's lungs were about to burst into flames, Adam broke the searing kiss, and pressed against Lawrence, panting quietly. His eyes were shining with tears, and Lawrence wanted to comfort him.

"I believed you," Adam whispered, with a breathy laugh of scorn. "I thought you meant it. I…I wanted you to mean it. I waited for you. I thought you were going to come back, because you said so passionately that you couldn't stay away. But you never did. And I…And I guess I can't stay from you, either."

The young man's head bowed, so that Lawrence couldn't see the flush of shame and embarrassment that had spread across his face. But Lawrence tilted his head back up, and pulled him back into a kiss, a strong, deep kiss, stealing Adam's breath away and causing him to gasp. When he needed air, he broke the kiss, and tipped Adam's head back, exposing a pale throat. He brought his hot lips to the soft flesh, his tongue tracing patterns, tasting the salt of his skin, feeling his throat almost vibrate as the kid groaned. He bit down, and then sucked the pain away, enjoying the breathy noises of pleasure he was pulling from Adam.

"I did mean it, I swear on my life. But I was afraid I'd ruined everything. I thought you didn't want to see me again, and I just wanted you to be happy," Lawrence promised against Adam's skin. His tingling, wet, hot lips brushed up Adam's throat, across his jaw, and finally met his lips. Adam didn't plan on losing control over the situation. He brought his hips to Lawrence's, and ground his erection against the doctor's. Lawrence moaned into Adam's mouth, the heat of lust searing through his body as Adam kept up his steady rhythm.

"Don't talk," Adam ordered, biting at Lawrence's lower lip before pulling the doctor's tongue into his mouth, continuing to rub his body against Lawrence's, hips swaying. The oncologist obeyed, hesitantly putting his hands on Adam's shoulders and dragging him closer, until their body heat morphed together. Adam didn't pull away; instead, he unbuttoned Lawrence's shirt, quickly and nimbly, untucked it, and pulled it off. He pressed his hands against the hot flesh of Lawrence's torso, his fingers brushing across lines of muscle, every ridge. His palms moved across his ribs, moving upward, and twisted both nipples; just enough to inflict a bit of pain and a wave of pleasure. Lawrence gasped against Adam's hungry lips, jerking slightly, and then shuddered as Adam's rough thumbs began to rub his nipples none too gently.

The young man slowly dragged his mouth down Lawrence's neck, to his chest, dropping himself to the ground, and began to press hot, open-mouthed kisses on the flesh while Lawrence easily tugged off the giant sweater. The doctor tugged him to his feet and fumbled with the young man's jeans, impatiently yanking them off. Adam kicked the article of clothing out of the way, removing his ratty sneakers and socks on his own, while Lawrence finished undressing himself. Both men now in their boxers, Lawrence pulled Adam to his body, sighing at the feel of bare skin against bare skin, and led him to the bedroom, tripping every now and then, since Adam couldn't seem to keep his mouth off of him for more than three seconds. But they managed to make it to the bed, with Lawrence on top of Adam.

That didn't last long. Adam grabbed the doctor's bicep and flipped him over, rolling on top of the strong body, straddling him, and glared down at him.

"Don't fuck with me. I may be smaller than you, but I am not letting you take over," he said. Lawrence rolled his eyes and ran his hands up Adam's back, kneading his knuckles into the flesh. The young man seemed comforted by this, accepting the massage, and bent down, capturing Lawrence's mouth with his own again, his kisses needy and starving, his tongue mapping every inch of Lawrence's mouth. Lawrence ran his fingers through Adam's soft hair, immediately falling in love with the fluffy texture, twisting it around his fingers and tugging it tightly as Adam began to grind his erection against his own, again. The young man rubbed back and forth, his breathing turning into lustful pants.

No longer satisfied with clothed erection against clothed erection, Adam growled impatiently, and tore Lawrence's off, as well as his own. Those stormy eyes, darkening with lust, focused on Lawrence's rock-hard, throbbing member. But the gaze didn't last long, because he soon found himself on his back.

"Lawrence, what the – _ahh_ – " Adam trailed off with a low moan. Lawrence had ducked his head between Adam's thighs, and had licked at the seeping slit, his palm rubbing against Adam's balls. The boy arched his back, squeezing his eyes shut as Lawrence took his head into his mouth, giving it a hard suck. He was biting his lower lip hard, his fingers twisting into the bed sheets tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Lawrence brought more of Adam's cock into his mouth, his tongue tracing every bulge and vein, working magic around the sensitive area. Adam was gasping and moaning from beneath him, each breathy sound of sexual pleasure sending tingles down his spine.

"Lawrence – _ahh, nghnn _– I…_oh, fuck, do that again…_Lawrence," Adam groaned, writhing on the sheets, panting. Lawrence peered up at him, almost moaning at the sight of the flushed, disheveled boy arching his back and tilting his head.

"Yes?" Lawrence asked innocently, before taking all of Adam to the back of his throat, wrapping his tongue around the seeping, hard, throbbing member and sucking hard. The boy cried out, thrusting his hips upward, and fucked Lawrence's mouth uncontrollably, head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, chest heaving. He didn't stay silent for more than a second while this took place, and those _sinful _sounds pouring from Adam's mouth sent fireworks of lust through Lawrence's body as he fought his gag reflex and sucked harder, his tongue sliding up and down, over and around Adam's cock. The young man nearly sobbed, his hips bucking harder as he struggled to fuck Lawrence's mouth even more desperately, until Lawrence shoved Adam down against the mattress by pushing his hand against Adam's hip. He didn't need to be suffocated today.

"Stop, _Lawrence, _holy _shit, _I'm gonna…_I, oh fuck_," Adam begged. Lawrence pulled back, swallowing the bitter mouthful of Adam's pre-cum, not wanting Adam to orgasm yet. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Adam lay there fighting off his climax, a moan falling from his lips at the sight. The young man opened his eyes and pushed Lawrence down onto the mattress once more, crushing his mouth against Lawrence's. He could taste himself on the doctor's mouth, and for some reason, he found it strangely erotic. Lawrence rolled over, almost knocking Adam off the bed by accident, and opened the drawer of the night-table. Adam had bitten down on his left nipple, and he gasped, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as Adam sucked the pain away, his tongue tracing the small bud, before giving the same attention to the next one.

Lawrence managed to grab the bottle of Vaseline and a wrapped condom without falling off the bed, and set the jar down on the mattress, sighing and groaning as Adam sucked at the dip above his collarbone. He fumbled at the wrapper of the condom with shaky, clumsy fingers, too distracted by Adam's mouth to figure out how to open it. Apparently, Adam was too impatient to wait for Lawrence's mind to clear enough to open it. Burning with desire and frantically grinding his wet erection against Lawrence's, sliding slightly because of their mixing pre-cum, Adam snatched the packaged condom out of Lawrence's fingers and brought it to his mouth. Never slowing his pace with his hips, Adam tore the wrapper open using his teeth, spitting the plastic out onto the floor, and shaking the rubber free. Straddling Lawrence and rising slightly, he moved to put it on. Lawrence rubbed his thighs distractingly, causing the action to take longer than necessary.

He dipped his fingers into the jar, scooping up the gooey mass, and greased up his hand. Lawrence had sat up slightly and was kissing and nipping at Adam's smooth jaw, his tongue occasionally sliding over to Adam's lips.

"Lie down," Adam ordered, pushing him back down onto the bed, forcing him to roll over onto his stomach. He began to ease his index finger into Lawrence's entrance, but the doctor tensed immediately with a hiss of surprise.

"You have to relax, or it'll hurt like hell," Adam murmured, bending forward and trailing his tongue up Lawrence's spine, distracting him from the discomfort of his ass. He finally slid his finger through the ring of tight muscle, and began to put a second one in, dropping open-mouthed kisses along Lawrence's back, murmuring quiet nothings. Lawrence appreciated not only the preparations, but the distractions. He barely felt the discomfort as Adam scissored the two digits before pushing in a third one. It stung a little, but then the voyeur pushed his fingers upward, and hit a certain bundle of nerves, causing Lawrence to jerk in surprised pleasure, gasping.

Seemingly satisfied, Adam pulled his fingers out, and scooped a generous helping of Vaseline out from the jar, applying it to his covered cock. He then gripped at Lawrence's sides, positioning the tip of his impatient cock at Lawrence's entrance.

"You ready?" he asked. Lawrence nodded, burying his face into the pillows. Adam slowly pushed in, closing his eyes in concentration. The pain was sharp and hot, but Lawrence bit back his whines, not wanting to seem pathetic. Besides, it wasn't so bad once Adam was fully seated. The voyeur had stopped moving, to allow Lawrence to adjust to the size and the feeling of being fulled. But the boy was impatient, and began to move after a couple of seconds, causing Lawrence great discomfort.

"Adam," he grunted, pained. He felt the young man's fingers dig into his sides.

"Just shut up," Adam breathed, thrusting hard. By the time the sentence had been completed, the pain had worn away, and was replaced with pleasure. Adam moved faster, and harder, as if sensing this, pounding into the doctor ruthlessly. The room was soon filled with the sounds of Lawrence's cries of intense pleasure, mingled with Adam's. He hadn't thought they'd be so vocal, but it turned out to be a turn-on rather than annoying. Their bodies slick with sweat, Adam slamming into him over and over, hitting the pocket of nerves every time, Lawrence knew he wasn't going to last long. He bit down on his arm to keep from screaming, the pleasure almost unbearable. Adam had wrapped his arms tightly around Lawrence's torso. He was panting against his shoulder, his hot breath tickling his neck, and he cursed and moaned into Lawrence's blonde locks.

Adam pulled out, only to slam back in with full force, throwing Lawrence out of control. With a hoarse shout, he experienced the most intense orgasm of his life, his entire body spazzing. Adam's hand had curled around his painfully hard cock, and was pumping in time to his thrusts. Lawrence's hot seed spilled into Adam's fist, and he turned into a boneless heap, falling against the mattress, his body still quaking with spasms, quiet, guttural moans falling from this throat.

Finally, Adam came too, and he rode out his orgasm with quiet cries, his fingernails creating half-moons in Lawrence's back. When he was finished, he collapsed against Lawrence's sweaty back, shaking and sweating, breathing hard, his chest heaving. He'd worked hard, and his every muscle ached from the work out. He'd be sore tomorrow.

Lawrence had enjoyed every second of it. He rolled over in time to see Adam tug the condom off, sleepily tossing it to the floor to be properly disposed of later. For now, neither man had the energy to get out of bed. Adam stared at him, exhausted, and a lazy grin spread across his face, surprising the doctor.

"You sure know how to please a man," Lawrence complimented, pulling Adam to his body, caressing the boy's ass. Adam pressed his face against Lawrence's chest, dropping a kiss there. That was enough of an answer, apparently. The young man quickly fell asleep, spent from their vigorous activity.

For a while, Lawrence lay there and watched his Adam sleep. He was relaxed, for once, and looked completely at ease. Lawrence smiled, brushing Adam's sweaty bangs out of his face, and kissed his forehead, closing his eyes as well. Within moments, he fell asleep as well.

With Adam in his arms, it wasn't hard to drift off. He had his lover, and that was all that really mattered right now. Allison could walk in at this very moment, and he wouldn't care. This was too precious.

What started off as a miserable, shitty morning, turned into a surprising, totally amazing afternoon.

***nervous* Well, hopefully I didn't screw this up too badly. I'm dying to know what you guys think of this, so...PLEASE REVIEW! . Thanks for reading this far, and I hope you're enjoying it. :) Thank you for all the reviews so far, it's a great motivation, and makes my day. So keep them up! I'll try to update again, soon. ^^ As for my older one, I haven't felt much motivation to update it. I'm trying to force myself to do so, but it might be a while. Ironically, I'm thinking of starting even more fanfics, just because I feel like expanding my categories and getting opinions from a variety of other people. The ideas I'm considering: Left 4 Dead 2 (Nick&Ellis), RocknRolla(Undetermined as of now), and possibly an Inception(Eames&Arthur). Anyway, off to bed I go! Goodnight! Thanks for reading, hopefully you enjoyed it, and please review! :)**


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